“Pretend you’re having a championship fight. Squeeze
the trigger to make them box,” prompts the narrator of a 1976 television
commercial advertising the Mego Corporation’s brand new, officially licensed
boxing ring playset. Two young boys engage their respective action figures in
fisticuffs while their friends look on, no doubt anxiously awaiting their turn.
“Pretend you’re in the champ’s corner. You can control all the boxing action.
Imagine it’s a knockout and Muhammad Ali is still the champ!”
For a globally recognized personality who always put
himself across as larger than life, and was perceived as being exactly that,
seeing Muhammad Ali reduced down to nine inches of molded rubber and plastic might have seemed somehow lacking in the appropriate degree
of splendor or integrity. And yet, toy visionary Marty Abrams and the talented
team at Mego pulled out all the stops with their finely sculpted and fully
articulated action figure. As to the toy line’s success, that would be left up
to the whims and wallets of the general public.
It has been rightfully pointed out time and again
that one of the great things about Ali is that you don’t even need to be a
boxing fan to know and appreciate who he is. That’s no less true today than it
was back in the mid-1970s when the recently re-crowned heavyweight champion was
in the process of transcending the status of sporting legend to become not just
a cultural icon, but a name brand. Needless to say, when it came to endorsement
opportunities, the results were predictably hit and miss.
1975 saw the publication of his bestselling memoir
called, appropriately enough, The Greatest, and three years later he
lent his likeness to DC Comics where he was faithfully rendered by writer and
artist extraordinaire Neal Adams in a 72-page one-shot called Superman vs.
Muhammad Ali. Though they do square off against one another early in the
story, the heavyweight champion and the Man of Steel later team up to save planet
Earth from a hostile alien invasion.
It was at this same exact time that Ali’s image
adorned aluminum cans filled with the ill-fated Mr. Champ’s Soda (which was
available during its short shelf life in orange, grape, papaya, watermelon, and
red raspberry flavors) and memorably appeared as a pitchman for D-Con roach
repellent.
In between then, he had invested a reported $12
million in Don King’s misguided attempt at launching a record label and watched
his Chicago novelty restaurant Ali’s Trolley—located in the Hyde Park
neighborhood, it was shaped and decorated like a railway dining car—go under
after only eighteen underwhelming months. This was his second unprofitable
venture into the food business, the first being a fleeting affiliation with the
Miami-based Champ Burger in 1968.
Not quite five months removed from outlasting his
nemesis Smokin’ Joe Frazier in their hellish ‘Thrilla in Manila,’ Ali was sent
to San Juan, Puerto Rico where he dispatched battle-tested Belgian Jean Pierre
Coopman inside of five rounds. Just three days later, on February 23 to be
precise, the globetrotting heavyweight champion found himself in midtown
Manhattan. Dressed in a suit and tie, Ali stood behind a podium at the Fifth
Avenue Club to conduct a press conference held during a special breakfast sponsored
by the Mego Corporation kicking off that day’s festivities at the 1976 New York
Toy Fair.
An entrepreneurial couple from Long Island, David
and Madeline Abrams established a grass roots toy company in 1954 that they
originally called Martin-Howard Corp. after their two sons. The Abrams’ initial
goal was no more ambitious than producing “lure” merchandise designed to catch
the eye and inspire impulse buys at five and dime stores. However, the Mom and
Pop operation gradually began to expand along with the advertising boom and
burgeoning toy industry, necessitating a family affair in which the company’s
namesakes joined their parents in the manufacturing trenches.
Marty, as he was and still is affectionately known , graduated business school in 1971 and was handed the keys to the kingdom that, while still in its early days, had been rechristened after his favorite childhood expression uttered whenever he wanted to accompany his parents someplace—“me go.”
Abrams pioneered an aggressive and consumer-friendly
campaign which would not just rejuvenate but totally restructure Mego while
revolutionizing the entire toy business in the process. So much so that he was
later bestowed the title of “the father of the modern action figure.”
It all started with Action Jackson, Mego’s answer to
G.I. Joe, the military-themed Hasbro figure that made it socially acceptable
for boys to play with “dolls.” The company’s first celebrity figure happened to
be a real-life Joe. New York Jets Superbowl-winning quarterback Joe Namath,
that is.
Marty Abrams had gained traction and currency enough
by 1974 to outbid upstart competitors Azrak Hamway International at the zero
hour for the exclusive rights to manufacture officially licensed Planet of
the Apes action figures. This was a very big deal, owing to the popularity
of the five feature films (which, by this time were being aired on networks
across the country) and the live action television series then in production.
This arrangement didn’t legally preclude AHI from
making Apes rack toys, nor did it keep them from releasing a line of
knock-off Action Apeman figures, a clear violation which called for a cease and
desist order from Mego’s copyright lawyers. Planet of the Apes was such
a hot commodity that United Manufacturing got in on the simian action behind
Mego’s back as well with their bootleg Astro-Apes figures.
Interestingly, when Azrak Hamway won the Universal
Monsters property and produced figures of Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster, the
Wolf Man, the Mummy, and Creature from the Black Lagoon, Mego repaid the favor
for their Apes infraction by putting out a series they called Mad
Monsters that included their own alternate versions of all AHI’s creatures but
the Gill-Man. Marty was not a toy man to be trifled with.
Acquiring the Star Trek license for the
paltry sum of $5,000 was another massive triumph for Mego in 1974, just as the
show was enjoying a revival in acclaim thanks to nationwide syndication and fan
conventions in the wake of having been unceremoniously canceled after only three
seasons. Kids of the 70s like myself not only enjoyed daily accessibility to
the series itself, we could recreate scenes from the program in our very own
living rooms courtesy of Mego action figures depicting Kirk, Spock, McCoy,
Scotty, Uhura, and a Klingon, of course.
Mego’s bread and butter was unquestionably their
World’s Greatest Superheroes line which was initiated in 1973 and included good
guys and villains from both the Marvel and DC universes. To feature the Caped
Crusader and his Boy Wonder, Superman and Shazam alongside Spiderman, The
Incredible Hulk, Captain America, and the Fantastic Four was an ambitious
endeavor which seems nearly incomprehensible by today’s standards whereby the
two comic book publishing titans can rarely, if ever, be persuaded to play nice
together.
The authentic cloth outfits (even the big,
goofy-looking gloves on Batman, Robin, and Aquaman that resembled plastic oven
mitts) and cool accessories (such as phasers, communicators, and tricorders for
the Star Trek characters, for example) played a great part in the appeal
of the Mego figures. As revealed to more than 700 industry insiders and
potential buyers at Toy Fair’s 1976 Mego breakfast—in addition to Don King, who
has never been known to shy away from a profitable photo opportunity—their
Muhammad Ali figure would benefit from the same deluxe treatment, if not
better.
Using a painted and repurposed body left over from
their Big Jim toy (a generic “Space Leader and Star Commander”), Mego’s Ali
action figure would come packaged on a clamshelled blister card complete with
Everlast trunks, robe, boxing gloves, and sparring headgear. Also included was
a trigger mechanism which would clamp around the figure’s waist and snap into
its back, allowing the user to activate the champ’s punches.
In the same way that Mego produced diorama-like
environments and playsets that greatly enhanced the sense of enthusiastic
make-believe for children dreaming up classic or completely imaginary scenarios
in which to place their Batman, Mad Monster, Planet of the Apes
and Star Trek figures, consumers could similarly purchase a boxing ring
for Muhammad Ali to compete in against a foe which was included at no extra cost
but was also sold separately.
Identified simply as Opponent, the ancillary figure bore a purposefully uncanny resemblance to Ken Norton. Ali was seven months away, as of Toy Fair, from confronting his two-time adversary at Yankee Stadium in the rubber match of their pugilistic trilogy. Norton had famously broken Ali’s jaw en route to pounding out a split decision victory in their first bout in 1973 during George Foreman’s reign as heavyweight champion of the world. The following year, Ali rope-a-doped his way to liberating the title from the heavily-favored Foreman in spectacular fashion in the eighth round of their ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ in Zaire. Mego’s boxing ring playset also came equipped with accessories like stools, water bottles, and spit buckets. “Some assembly required,” the TV commercial gently cautioned kids and adults alike.
Another remarkable feature of the Mego action
figures was the attention to detail given to the graphic design elements of the
packaging, notably the vibrant and awe-inspiring illustrations on the panels of
their superhero, Planet of the Apes and Star Trek blister cards
and window boxes. They went for a unique approach when it came to the Ali
figure.
Then-Product Design Manager Vincent Baiera explained
the story behind the photo shoot involved in creating a background which would
simulate the look of the Ali figure standing in the center of a boxing ring,
its right arm raised in apparent victory. “We were all given a half day off and
were told to report to the conference room,” Baiera remembers. “They set up the
shot with the ropes and the background was stripped in afterwards. It took real
talent to do that then before computer graphics and digital imaging. Those were
the days.”
The Mego employees were situated in such a way as to
stand in for the would-be crowd cheering on the champ for his big title fight,
and Marty Abrams himself makes a cameo appearance on the package as one of the
ringside photographers.
Riding high on the rollout of their Wizard of Oz
line the year before, Abrams divulged during the New York Toy Fair breakfast
that the Muhammad Ali figure and playset would be available to retailers by
that Bicentennial summer, more or less around the time Ali would be squaring
off against Japanese wrestling legend Antonio Inoki in their mixed match in
Tokyo. The other major announcement came
in the form of Mego’s Sonny and Cher figures, which prompted the mismatched
pair to bring their variety show before an invitation-only gathering at Toy
Fair. A subsequent trade ad run by Mego boasted “We’ve Got the Vamp and the
Champ” above a picture of the Cher and Ali toys side by side.
Given Ali’s immense renown and social relevance, it
seems inconceivable in hindsight that his action figures would be anything but
a huge hit. To everyone’s surprise and regret, it didn’t take long for the Ali
figures to wear out their welcome on store shelves. Forlornly dangling from
j-pegs unsold, they were subject to drastic price reductions as the holidays
approached in a desperate attempt to get them off the racks and into customers’
homes. “I think it had a lot to do with the times,” Neil Kublan offered in a
sobering speculation. “White people then did not buy Black dolls.”
Founded in 1968 and operating out of South Central
Los Angeles until 1983, the Shindana Toy Company was popular for their line of
African American creations, designed specifically for the Black community by Black toy makers. Shindana offered original action figures such as a secret
agent called Slade and an African American businesswoman known as Career Girl
Wanda, baby dolls that had names like Zuri, Little Soft Janie, and Nancy
Ponytail, as well as renderings of Redd Foxx, Flip Wilson, Jimmy ‘Dyn-O-Mite’ Walker,
‘Dr. J’ Julius Erving, and O.J. Simpson.
For what it’s worth, Marty Abrams had made a special
point of including the Enterprise’s African American Communications Officer,
Lt. Nyota Uhura, in Mego’s series of Star Trek figures, not just to
capitalize on its Barbie-like marketability but because of what a
groundbreaking character Gene Roddenberry had cultivated for Nichelle Nichols
to breathe unique life into on the program. Likewise, Mego had previously
manufactured an action figure based on Marvel’s Black superhero Falcon, who was
being given equal billing in a shared monthly title with Captain America at the
time.
34-year-old Muhammad Ali successfully defended his
world heavyweight championship against Ken Norton in Yankee Stadium that
September, albeit by a controversially threadbare decision. In all honesty, it
was the opinion of almost everyone watching that Norton had been robbed of
certain victory. Nevertheless, hopes were high that repackaging and rereleasing
the Mego figure in 1977, as well as throwing a life-size Ali punching bag into
the mix, would garner renewed interest.
Sadly, Abrams’ faith would not be rewarded by
consumers, and plans to introduce three new opponents into the Ali toy line
were scrapped. Therefore, the only look we will ever get at The Carrot Kid,
Battling Ben, or Lightning Lefty is an existing photo teasing the figures’
prototypes which shows the baldheaded Lefty to be none other than Superman’s
archenemy Lex Luthor in boxing trunks.
The failure of their Muhammad Ali figure was not the
lone disappointment for Mego. In both the figurative and literal sense, the
company’s fortunes had begun a slow decline which would only gather momentum in
the years ahead. “Star Wars put a dagger in our heart,” related Marty
Abrams during the Star Trek episode of the Netflix documentary series The
Toys That Made Us, which chronicled Mego’s rise and fall.
Because they had established such a harmonious
working relationship with 20th Century Fox dating back to the negotiation of
their mutually beneficial Planet of the Apes deal, the movie studio gave
Mego the rights to first refusal with regard to their new sci-fi offering from
the imagination of George Lucas. In a rare moment of shortsightedness that
seems astonishing in retrospect, refusal was the exact response that Fox
received from Mego. Rather, Abrams and company opted to go all-in on the
development and distribution of their Micronauts line.
What began as an in-house interpretation and
expansion of the Microman toys from Takara out of Japan, Micronauts proved to
be popular with U.S. fans over the next four years for Mego. However, when you
contrast the Micronauts modest success against the tens of billions of dollars
that Kenner has raked in from the Star Wars franchise (toy sales are
believed to be twice the amount of the films’ already staggering box office
receipts), you can understand why Marty Abrams finished his earlier thought by
lamenting, “We just couldn’t figure out a way to pull the dagger out and heal
ourselves.”
If Star Wars was a dagger through Mego’s
heart, bankruptcy proceedings and corporate malfeasance were the final nails in
its coffin. Declining sales put Mego’s financial books into the red by more
than $44 million for the combined years 1980 and ‘81. Worse than that, though,
was the disclosure that those very books were being cooked. Charges of
misappropriation of funds, defrauding stockholders, and bribery were levied
against Marty Abrams, as well as Mego’s former General Counsel, Leonard Siegal.
In September 1982, Abrams was convicted by a jury
serving the United States District Court in Manhattan on fifteen counts of wire
fraud, one count of obstruction of justice, and one count of filing false
federal corporate tax returns. Each count carried a separate five-year maximum
sentence. Abrams, who declined to testify on his own behalf, summarily remained
free on bail, appealed the decision, had the obstruction charge dropped, and
served just four months in prison on the remaining counts.
Not counting the 18-inch specialty doll put out by Effanbee in 1986, it took twenty years for Muhammad Ali to reappear in brick and mortar toy stores, this time courtesy of Kenner, Mego’s old Star Wars foil,
which produced a series of Ali action figures under its Starting Lineup banner
in the late 1990s. A decided improvement over Kenner’s two different four-inch
Timeless Legends figures were the trio of window-boxed toys that stood a foot
tall. One of these was a great two-pack that had Ali engaged in a side-profile
stare down opposite Joe Frazier as the archrivals touch gloves before going
into battle. The NECA toy company released its own two-pack of window-boxed
action figures recreating Neal Adams’ cover for the Superman vs. Muhammad
Ali comic book from 1978.
Having gone on to invent the Nintendo Power Glove,
Abrams managed to amass another small fortune after his abbreviated prison
stint and was content to pretty much leave his association with the
decades-long defunct Mego Corporation in his rearview mirror. That all changed
in recent years when a growing number of companies insisted on producing
“Mego-like” action figures and brazenly advertising them as such—right down to
the eight-inch scale, fourteen points of articulation, and fabric costumes.
Some of them came packaged on illustrated blister cards reminiscent of Mego’s
glory days.
This was nothing new, of course, as several
fledgling toy manufacturers copied Mego’s recipe for success back in the 70s
and 80s. Nevertheless, Marty was persuaded by company flagbearer Paul ‘Dr.
Mego’ Clarke to reclaim his brand and get back into the toy business in
partnership with new President Joel Rosenzweig. Hence, in 2018, Mego rose from
the dead and re-entered the marketplace with a vengeance.
To those of us now in the autumn of our lives who
grew up unwrapping Mego figures on our birthdays and Christmas mornings in the
1970s, this announcement stirred up a tidal wave of nostalgia which swept us
off our collective feet. I’m sure I don’t just speak for myself when pondering
the fact that merely saying the word “Mego” is more than enough to bring a
smile to my face. Holding one of their figures in my hand makes me absolutely
giddy. The opportunity that we have been given to reconnect with a tangible callback to our childhoods by way of these weird, wonderful collectibles is something
that you can’t put a price tag on. Not that retailers don’t do exactly that, of
course.
Figures from recently acquired licenses such as the
Universal Monsters, Married With Children, Charmed, The Brady
Bunch, and Cheers were introduced to a new generation of toy
collectors in the first few waves of Mego’s rebirth. Marty Abrams made sure,
however, that obsessive middle-aged nerds like myself were well represented by
augmenting these new properties with faces that were fondly familiar. Action
Jackson returned, as did Batman, Superman, Fonzie, Spock, Kirk, and KISS, to
name a few.
A Legends line was devised that would allow for contemporary celebrity likenesses of old favorites from Mego’s heyday such as Joe Namath and Farrah Fawcett. It goes without saying that no lineup of eight-inch, fully articulated Legends would be complete without what boxing historian, three-time world title challenger, current trainer, and Muhammad Ali superfan John ‘The Iceman’ Scully, refers to as “the greatest action figure of all times!” And so, Ali was redesigned for distribution by Mego two years after the sad demise of ‘The Greatest’ himself.
The 2018 Ali figure still comes with his robe and boxing gloves, in addition to a championship belt fashioned after the Ring magazine strap which is unique to this version. Limited to 10,000 pieces, a gold seal is affixed to the figure’s plastic clamshell that indicates each toy’s numerical order off the assembly line.
It is safe to assume that the poor sales performance of the original Ali in the late 70s accounts for the fact that vintage figures can be found very easily and at relatively affordable asking prices on the secondary marketplace these days. You’re likely to pay far more for a first printing, or even the modern reprint, of Superman vs. Muhammad Ali regardless of its condition. Though Mego’s boxing ring and rare Ken Norton “Opponent” figure will cost you a pretty penny, a mint on card Ali will in no way deliver a knockout blow to your bank account. Nevertheless, they remain preciously sought-after mementos of simpler, more carefree times that have long since passed us by.
Sources:
Daniel Bates. How Soft Touch Muhammad Ali's $80
Million Fortune Was Depleted (Daily Mail UK, May 26, 2021)
Marilyn Beck. Muhammad Ali, Inc. (San Francisco
Examiner, June 10, 1976)
Chicago Film Archives. Muhammad Ali Restaurant
12/8/10/75 (accessed at
http://www.chicagofilmarchives.org/collections/index.php/Detail/Object/Show/object_id/13248)
Joseph P. Fried. Head of Troubled Mego Is Convicted
of Fraud (New York Times, September 2, 1982)
Peter Romeo. Muhammad Ali, Restaurateur (Restaurant
Business, June 13, 2016)
Anita Shelton. Toy Makers Aren't Kidding in Their
Marketing Approach (Bradenton Herald, June 6, 1976)
United States of America, Appellee, v. Leonard S.
Siegel and Martin B. Abrams, Defendants-appellants, 717 F.2d 9.2d Cir. 1983
(accessed at
https://law.justia.com/cases/federal/appellate-courts/F2/717/9/74734)
1976 Muhammad Ali Toy Commercial (1976, accessed at
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hexAqEpaWU)
The Toys That Made Us: Star Trek (Netflix, original
airdate May 25, 2018)
boxrec.com
megomuseum.com
twomorrows.com/media/MegoPreview
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